Quatermass Read Online Free PDF Page A

I—understand—”
    The furious voice blasted at him from the loudspeakers. “That somebody was going to do it? Out there in that Third World you’re so busy joining?”
    He could hardly take it in. He licked his lips.
    “You mean—cause that ?”
    “Right, you got it. Well?”
    He could only stand there shaking his head. It was possible, of course it was. There were half a dozen ways it might be attempted . . . on-board sabotage . . . beam radiation . . . but whoever would? And that he should be thought to have to known about it and said nothing?
    The anger in Marshall’s voice was fractionally less. Perhaps he had burned some of it up, or perhaps it was the sight of Quatermass’s obvious stupefaction. But his words were still unforgiving.
    “You dropped some big hints, my friend. Now you better have answers!”
    He turned his head and muttered: “Okay, cut it.”
    The screen went dark.
    Nobody spoke after that. With the huge infuriated face gone, the studio felt suddenly empty. But the accusation seemed to linger and hang.
    Cameras were switched off in silence. Lamps faded. Toby Gough murmured an inaudible excuse and went hurrying off towards the gallery. The makeup woman sidled out, along with the technicians. It was as if everyone wanted to get clear of Quatermass’s presence.
    It was almost dark, but he could tell Kapp was still there.
    “I didn’t mean anything, how could I?”
    In a daze he started gathering up the spilled photographs from the table. It was hard to see. Kapp came to help.
    “It was only about her,” Quatermass said.
    “I know.”
    “I wanted to show her picture. You see . . . she could be in any country by now . . . another continent, even. That’s why I—”
    “Where’s your coat?” said Kapp.
    He grabbed it from a chair and wrapped it round Quatermass’s shoulders.
    “I’m getting you out of here,” he said.
    He had to push the old man ahead of him. In the rubbish-clogged passage Quatermass resisted, turning confusedly round. “I really ought to go back and try to explain—”
    “Listen,” said Kapp, “that hot line between the U.S. and Moscow is going to be white hot.”
    “I expect it will—”
    “A situation like this, stones get flung. So don’t be a nebbech. ”
    “A what?”
    “ Nebbech. Good old Yiddish word,” said Kapp. “For the one they can all fling stones at!”

2

    I n the dawn light two ragged figures were trying to prise open the rear door of Kapp’s waggon. The Alsatian was snarling and barking, but they did not seem discouraged.
    “Looters!” A voice rang out with metallic clangour, echoing round the buildings. It sounded as if it came from an armoured car. Clipped and military. “Sergeant, take the one on the left! Fire at will!”
    The figures did not hesitate. With oddly shrill squeals of fright they turned and ran, scrambling through gaps in the wire fence.
    Kapp looked carefully round a corner. In his hand was a small box-shaped instrument. He raised it to his lips and again the stentorian voice clapped across the car park. “Sergeant, I want those two! Cut them off quick!”
    He waited till he was sure. Then he switched off and turned to Quatermass. “All clear.”
    “What is that thing?”
    “Home-made,” Kapp said. “A bit heavy on batteries. You have to keep recharging them. It works, though.” They started towards the waggon. “Did you notice—those two were girls. They can be the worst.”
    He unlocked the car. The great dog bounded forward to lick his face.
    “Good Puppy. Meet our friend again.” He helped Quatermass aboard. “They were lucky not to get in. He’d have had their throats.”
    “Why do you call him Puppy?”
    Kapp smiled. “My kids, when he was young. I like it—the idea that he could still be growing.”
    The back of the waggon, Quatermass saw now, was full. Crates, ropes, tools, lamps, towing gear. And half a dozen jerricans.
    “Petrol,” said Kapp. “My meagre allocation. It’s like carrying