[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

really," he stammered. "I've been affected by some kind of amnesia or
something. They must have told you. . . . I just need to rest."
"Sure," she said lightly. She was unperturbed and unfazed, evidently prepared
for something like that. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm still around.
There'll be plenty of time for reunions later. They say that waiting makes it
that much better. I'll see how you're feeling in the morning." She smiled,
Page 155
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
winked at him, and walked away.
"Yes. . . . Do." Jarrow closed the door shakily and sat down.
He went to bed shortly after finishing his meal. But the feeling of
self-congratulatory satisfaction that he had anticipated wasn't there. He
thought of Rita, Sandy and Bruce he was glad now that he'd chosen not to
remember their names of Josef, Kay, and Scipio, and while he could never
condone what they stood for, somehow he couldn't bring himself to think of
them as "enemy." And while by no stretch of the imagination could he accept
that denouncing self-proclaimed saboteurs and subversives qualified as
"betrayal" . . . somewhere deep down, he wasn't comfortable about what he had
done.
twenty-six
Again Jarrow's sleep was troubled by strange, yet vividly real, dreams. He
was one of a group of men who lived in the empty billet hut that Nordens and
Tierney had taken him to. They were all military people, he knew somehow,
although in the dream everyone wore a green, one-piece smock, something like a
surgeon's. They moved with jerky, zombielike motions and their features were
distorted like the faces of rubber bendy-dolls. There were mirrors on the
walls, which Jarrow continually avoided confronting, because he was terrified
of seeing that he might be the same as the others, although he knew all along,
anyway, that it was true.
He woke up feeling panicky and shook while the images faded away. But even
when he was fully conscious again, he still felt acutely disturbed. He was
unable to pinpoint why.
As his mental gears slowly reengaged, the events of the previous day replayed
themselves through his mind, leading him to experience again the vague but
firmly rooted dissatisfaction that he had felt just before falling asleep.
Something felt very wrong about this whole business. Something was trying to
stare him in the face, but the conscious part of him that was in control kept
looking the other way.
He got up, showered, and dressed slowly, moving around as he did so and
taking in the mood and feeling of the place he was in. These had been his
quarters for several months at least, seemingly. Yet nothing was familiar;
nothing evoked any flicker of recognition or touched a sympathetic chord of
some buried memory. And even more than that, every bit as much as yesterday,
it was all so unlike him, so unchar-acteristic of anything he could have
wished to be a part of, so . . . alien.
Several months here of doing what? How did it tie in with appearing one day
at the Atlanta Hyatt as Maurice Gordon, carrying weapons and strange equipment
that looked like the kinds of things that secret agents in movies used? Josef
had told him that he had arrived there looking for Ashling. Why would Demiro,
a volunteer subject for a research program intended to explore a new military
Page 156
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
training method, know anything about a defecting scientist or be involved with
attempts to find him? Could Josef have been simply grasping at a straw in the
wild hope that anyone from Pearse might know something about Ashling? . . .
No, that didn't ring true, Jarrow told himself. Josef wouldn't act that way.
He'd had a reason for saying what he had. Jarrow stopped in the living room
and stared at the window looking out over the shrubs screening the parking
area below. He had to find out more about those missing months and the
connection with Ashling.
The sound of a woman's footsteps approaching came from the walkway below the
shrubbery and the steps leading up to the door. Jarrow moved forward,
expecting to see Vera again, but it was a dark-skinned girl in a white tunic.
She was carrying a plastic bag containing the clothes that Jarrow had left for
laundering the evening before. Jarrow opened the door before she could ring.
"Good morning," he said, extending an arm to accept them.
"Good morning, sir. That's all right, I'll take care of it." She had a
Hispanic voice. "There were these things as well." She handed him some scraps
of paper, ticket stubs, a few receipts, and the memo pad from the Hyatt, all
from the pockets of Gordon's gray suit, which he had been wearing yesterday.
The girl went through to the bedroom to hang the jacket, shirts, and pants,
and put the other items away. Jarrow moved over to the desk and opened one of
the drawers to get rid of the things that she had given him. He paused when he
saw the note that he had found in the pad on the morning that he first awoke:
Headman to ship out via J'ville, sometime Nov 19. Check ref "Cop 3."
Somebody shipping out? From the things he knew now, he guessed that it was
probably a reference to Ashling. Had Samurai known something, then? Yesterday
he would have taken this straight to Dr. Nordens. Now, with these new doubts
assailing him, he was less sure.
His gaze came to the phone unit standing to one side of the desk. He thought
of Vera again. There was somebody who could probably tell him a lot about
those crucial missing months. He had no delusions that she had reappeared
simply by courtesy of the management to let Samurai have his plaything back;
she was on the payroll to watch Jarrow, and doubtless briefed to try to help
him jog his memory. In other words she'd be more than ready to talk. . . .
But he'd never learn anything if he wouldn't let her near him. He put the pad
in the drawer with the other things and closed it. The girl came back into the
living room and began crossing toward the door. "What do I call you?" Jarrow
asked, turning his head.
"My name is Maria." A puzzled look crossed her face, as if he should have
known that.
"Do you know the lady called Vera, who comes here?"
Page 157
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Of course, sir."
Jarrow gestured toward the desk. "How would I contact her?"
"Seven-oh will get you the general directory. You should have a personal
section indexed from there. I think she would be in that somewhere."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Maria smiled a little nervously, gave him a strange look
again, and left. Jarrow activated the terminal, tapped in 70, and after a
little experimentation found himself looking at Vera's feline-eyed features,
framed by the sweep of black hair.
"Well, hello there," she greeted. "Sleep well?"
"Not too bad. Look, I'm just about to order breakfast. How would you like to
join me?"
"I'd love it. . . . Why? Changed your mind about needing some company?"
Jarrow fought to try to suppress the flush of color that he could feel rising
around his ears. "I'd like to talk some more, anyway," he replied.
* * *
Jarrow tried a few guesses based on the two strange regressions that he had
experienced, which he presumed were flashes of the mysterious Samurai.
"Are there any recreational facilities here?" he asked Vera as they picked at
iced melon and fruit slices across the table in the dining area of the
apartment. "A gymnasium, training room, something like that?"
"Why?" Vera asked, raising an eyebrow and looking interested. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

zanotowane.pl

doc.pisz.pl

pdf.pisz.pl

razem.keep.pl