disappeared below, leaving the deck suddenly deserted, except for three woebegone prisoners standing half drowned in the rain while their guard leaned negligently under the protecting overhang of a shed, his rifle circling slowly in their general direction.
Keilty stood listening to the wind screaming its high-pitched wail through the spiderwork of the tower, wishing mightily for a cigarette. He had just decided to go back down below decks to see what was happening, when five gas-masked marines came through the hatchway behind him, pushing a batch of prisoners, their hands clasped over their heads and their eyes streaming, and hurried them across the deck.
Owterry followed the prisoners. He caught sight of Keilty standing in the shelter of the cabin and came over.
`War's over,' he announced cheerfully. `Thanks very much for your help, by the way,'
Owterry added.
`Hooray,' Keilty muttered. Ì need a cigarette.
Owterry hauled out a soaking packet of Players, glared at them in disgust, and threw them away. `They're bringing up portable fans to blow out the tear gas,' he said. `The place is full of it and somebody wrecked the air-conditioning system.'
He produced a spare gas mask and handed it to Keilty. `Put this on and let's go take a look at the bomb. We got to it in plenty of time. Those idiots hadn't even attempted to get rid of it.'
They ducked into the thinning fog of tear gas that was rolling up the stairwell. Keilty noticed that someone had gotten the generators going again and the bulbs cast a considerably stronger light. They passed an office where several Vietnamese prisoners milled about sullenly, guarded by two marines with leveled weapons.
The tear gas had thinned out quite a bit and Keilty and Owterry removed their masks. He took a good look at the prisoners as they passed the office. Their clothes and hair were streaming with water which formed puddles on the incongruous green carpeting in the steel-bulkheaded room. They had the hard-bitten look of professional soldiers and theywere alert and
tense, in contrast to the three Keilty had seen on the deck. These were professionals, and the others had probably been scientists and technicians. The two guards appeared ready for trouble, with their carbines on full automatic and safetys off.
Owterry led him along a narrow catwalk, then down a vertical steel ladder into a featureless oval room. Keilty glanced back up the tube through which they had just climbed down, -noting that it was a hydraulically operated telescoping tube.
In the center of the room, a steel case about the size of a pickup truck was placed. There were the usual meaningless dials that Keilty had expected, and when he walked up for a closer look, he noticed that they were labeled in Vietnamese. He looked around the room. Besides the case, which was on the raised platform where he stood, the room was completely bare. The room itself was lit by soft fluorescent lights. Keilty noted the incongruity of the General Electric trademark on the light fixtures and the Vietnamese letters on the bomb casing.
Suddenly, it occurred to him that he was standing in the same room with a five-megaton thermonuclear bomb. The bomb itself might be harmless without its trigger, but its radiations certainly were not. He moved quickly and grasped the arm of a marine leaning against the casing and yanked him away.
`Hey ...'
`For the sake of your future offspring, friend. Have you checked this room for radiation?'
he asked, turning to Owterry.
The New Zealander paled under his coppery skin. 'No ...'
`Then I suggest we all get the devil out of here until those sorcerer's apprentices you people brought along get through in here.
Ìt's not going anywhere,' he added.
There was a hasty retreat up the ladder.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Keilty watched a Japanese freighter make its way slowly through the tangled knots of junks, freighters, pleasure craft, and warships anchored or moving in the roadstead below. Mariposa cluttered
Keilty stood listening to the wind screaming its high-pitched wail through the spiderwork of the tower, wishing mightily for a cigarette. He had just decided to go back down below decks to see what was happening, when five gas-masked marines came through the hatchway behind him, pushing a batch of prisoners, their hands clasped over their heads and their eyes streaming, and hurried them across the deck.
Owterry followed the prisoners. He caught sight of Keilty standing in the shelter of the cabin and came over.
`War's over,' he announced cheerfully. `Thanks very much for your help, by the way,'
Owterry added.
`Hooray,' Keilty muttered. Ì need a cigarette.
Owterry hauled out a soaking packet of Players, glared at them in disgust, and threw them away. `They're bringing up portable fans to blow out the tear gas,' he said. `The place is full of it and somebody wrecked the air-conditioning system.'
He produced a spare gas mask and handed it to Keilty. `Put this on and let's go take a look at the bomb. We got to it in plenty of time. Those idiots hadn't even attempted to get rid of it.'
They ducked into the thinning fog of tear gas that was rolling up the stairwell. Keilty noticed that someone had gotten the generators going again and the bulbs cast a considerably stronger light. They passed an office where several Vietnamese prisoners milled about sullenly, guarded by two marines with leveled weapons.
The tear gas had thinned out quite a bit and Keilty and Owterry removed their masks. He took a good look at the prisoners as they passed the office. Their clothes and hair were streaming with water which formed puddles on the incongruous green carpeting in the steel-bulkheaded room. They had the hard-bitten look of professional soldiers and theywere alert and
tense, in contrast to the three Keilty had seen on the deck. These were professionals, and the others had probably been scientists and technicians. The two guards appeared ready for trouble, with their carbines on full automatic and safetys off.
Owterry led him along a narrow catwalk, then down a vertical steel ladder into a featureless oval room. Keilty glanced back up the tube through which they had just climbed down, -noting that it was a hydraulically operated telescoping tube.
In the center of the room, a steel case about the size of a pickup truck was placed. There were the usual meaningless dials that Keilty had expected, and when he walked up for a closer look, he noticed that they were labeled in Vietnamese. He looked around the room. Besides the case, which was on the raised platform where he stood, the room was completely bare. The room itself was lit by soft fluorescent lights. Keilty noted the incongruity of the General Electric trademark on the light fixtures and the Vietnamese letters on the bomb casing.
Suddenly, it occurred to him that he was standing in the same room with a five-megaton thermonuclear bomb. The bomb itself might be harmless without its trigger, but its radiations certainly were not. He moved quickly and grasped the arm of a marine leaning against the casing and yanked him away.
`Hey ...'
`For the sake of your future offspring, friend. Have you checked this room for radiation?'
he asked, turning to Owterry.
The New Zealander paled under his coppery skin. 'No ...'
`Then I suggest we all get the devil out of here until those sorcerer's apprentices you people brought along get through in here.
Ìt's not going anywhere,' he added.
There was a hasty retreat up the ladder.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Keilty watched a Japanese freighter make its way slowly through the tangled knots of junks, freighters, pleasure craft, and warships anchored or moving in the roadstead below. Mariposa cluttered
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