Margaret St. Clair Read Online Free PDF

ears.
    Silence. “We all think we should try to cause the quake,” Pettrus said after a minute. “But it must be on Sunday night, as Moonlight” (that was one of the names we had for Madelaine) “said.”
    “We are all in favor of the earthquake,” I rep orted. “But it must be on Sunday night.”
    “Good,” said Dr. Lawrence. “Today is Thursday. Sven, you used to be a demolitions expert. Do you think you can get a bomb for us, perhaps from Port Chicago or Benecia, by sometime on Saturday?”
    The doctor seemed to have elected himself our leader. He was intelligent, his plans were realistic, And yet, I did not trust him. I did not trust him at all.
    -

Chapter 3
    How can an unarmed man get safely away with a bomb from a U.S. Navy arsen al? Sven had devoted a lot of thought to this problem, but the plan of action he had come up with was rudimentary indeed. For the most part, he felt he would have to rely on luck.
    He left the Rock before sunset. Madelaine and Dr. Lawrence gave him what m oney they had with them, and Dr. Lawrence got a prescription pad out of his briefcase and wrote a prescription for a powerful, quick-acting hypnotic.
    “I’ve made the signature ‘To be taken as needed’,” he told Sven, unsmiling. “Any drugstore ought to be a ble to ill it for you.” He put the prescription inside his rubber-ined tobacco pouch and handed it to Sven.
    Sven put the pouch in his pants pocket, beside his pocket knife. “Does the stuff dissolve quickly?” he asked.
    “Yes. It might taste a little bitter. Beer would be a good medium to administer it in.”
    They shook hands. The doctor wished Sven good luck. Madelaine, more demonstrative, kissed him on both cheeks. Then Sven got on Djuna’s back —Djuna and Pettrus were fer rying him to Port Chicago —and was carried away from the Rock. He turned to wave good-bye at Madelaine and Lawrence, standing on the shingle in the glowing light. He was gone.
    I should have liked to go with them. A historian ought o be where the action is . But my deformity would have slowed the party down, and three dolphins and a man were a little more apt to attract attention than two dolphins and a man. We didn’t want to attract any attention at all. So I stayed behind, near Noonday Rock.
    Sven, astride Djuna’s back, experienced again the extraordinary contentment he had found before in physical contact with one of the sea people. The contentment was always there, like a basic theme in a piece of music, and when he speculated about it, he was always su r prised by its intensity. The conscious part of his mind was occupied, however, with the problem of the night: how can an unarmed man get safely away with a bomb from a navy arsenal? Not quite unarmed, perhaps —the knife in his pocket had a sharp two-and-ah alf-inch blade. But it was splitting hairs to think of the knife in his dungarees as a weapon. He had never used it for anything more serious than stripping the insulation from electric wires.
    Sven had been stationed at Port Chicago for two months’ speci al training before he had been shipped out to the Middle East. He’d got to know several of the civilian dockside workers well enough to be on drinking terms with them. He’d liked a fellow Scandinavian, a man named Karl Eting, particularly well. If he coul d find Karl now —but it had been several years; Karl might not be working at the arsenal any more.
    Sven shifted his position on Djuna. To cut down wind resistance, he was leaning far forward, like a jockey. Even so, he knew that carrying him had more than halved her normal cruising speed. Pettrus swam beside them silently, making hardly a ripple in the water. And how cold the water was! When they got to Port Chi, Sven thought, he would have to spend some time rubbing his feet before they would be much use f or walking.
    The man and the dolphins passed under the Golden Gate Bridge. Sven saw the lights and heard the rush of traffic high over his head. Then they