“Yes. I thought it was a bluff. Now I’m not so sure.”
“I continued to think that way,” I said, “for some time after being put into this room. But gradually my attitude began to change. I saw that I was being defeatist and cowardly. I cannot help yearning for antizone, but I began to see that the yearning was shameful, and I want you to know that I am ashamed. I am ashamed of the way I acted about antizone the last time. I want you to know that.”
He studied me in some perplexity, and finally said, “Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to know you’re ashamed of wanting antizone.”
“Yes.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know about you. I can’t touch you anywhere; I can’t relate you to anything I know. Could it simply be that you’re insane?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know.”
He waved a hand in sudden irritation, as though brushing away cobwebs. “You keep taking me away, leading me off the subject. The site, that’s the important thing. I believe you now, you don’t know where it is. But you might be able to help us find it.”
“Then I will,” I said.
“Good. Come along with me.”
He turned and rapped on the door. The guard opened it, and we left the little gray room. I followed him down the corridor, feeling the ship move sluggishly beneath my feet, and through another door, and out on deck.
The deck was covered, with lights spaced along the roof. To our left as we walked along it was the metal skin of the ship. To our right was blackness, utter and complete. Small water sounds could be heard in the blackness. The impression was that this ship was flying with great speed through empty black space. It was very cold.
Phail led me through another door, inside the ship again, up a flight of stairs, and into a gorgeous room full of bright colors. Carpeting on the floor. Polished wood furniture. Gleaming brass fixtures. Ornate windows onto the outer blackness. Opulence and luxury. In the center, a large and beautiful wooden desk with a polished and empty top.
Phail motioned at this desk. “Sit down,” he said. “You’ll work there. You’ll find pencils and paper in the center drawer.”
Feeling that some mistake was being made, I went to the desk and sat down. I opened the center drawer, and pencils and paper were there, as Phail had said they would be. Since it seemed the proper thing to do, I removed them from the drawer and placed them on the desk. Then I leaned forward, and in the polished top I could see an unclear view of my own face.
In the meantime, Phail had gone to a safe in the corner, had pressed his palm to the scanner of the personnel lock, and had opened the safe door. As he took from the safe a package wrapped in brown paper, the room door burst open and a sailor came in, very excited. “Mister Phail!” I recognized this man as Davus, the one who had thrown me into the water.
Phail looked up at him with apparent annoyance. “What now?”
“General Ingor!”
Phail sprang to his feet. “The General! Where?”
“Coming here! They just radioed.”
Phail glanced at the package in his hand, then at me, then back at Davus. “How long do we have?”
Davus pointed at the ceiling. “He’s right up there! In a plane. They’re landing now.”
In a sudden fury, Phail cried, “How did he find us? Someone on board—” But he cut it abruptly off, spun around, tossed the package back into the safe and shut the safe door. He pointed at me and said to Davus, “Get him out of sight. Back in his room.”
“Yes, sir.” Davus came toward me.
Phail said to him, with cold authority, “Gently, Davus. He’ll go with you, there won’t be any trouble.”
Davus pouted, as though he’d been scolded by a teacher. “Yes, sir,” he said sullenly.
Phail said to me, “Go with him. We’ll get back to this later.”
I said, “Should I put the paper and pencils away?”
Phail made a crooked smile and said, “No, that won’t be necessary. Just go with Davus.”
“All right.”
I followed Davus out of the room. He took me back the same way I had come. This time, as we walked along the deck, the ship was on our right and the empty dark on our left. There was suddenly light out there in the emptiness. I stopped and looked, my hand resting on the rail, and saw an airplane, outlined by its own lights, sail on a long diagonal across the black, from upper right to lower left, its landing lights suddenly picking out at the end of the diagonal the choppiness of black water in the black night. The plane landed on the water and made a long sweeping turn toward us, its lights creating choppy water wherever they touched.
Davus tugged at my arm. “You’re supposed to come along peaceful,” he said. “Don’t get your hopes up about the General. He isn’t here to save you from anybody.”
I let him pull me away, and after that followed him without trouble back to my room.
XXIX
There was no third meal in that cycle. Being without it made me hungry, and this hunger made it difficult for me to go to sleep, but there was nothing else to do and so eventually sleep did come to me.
For the first time in a long while I was not permitted to sleep until I woke up of my own volition. Rough hands shaking me drove me out of sleep, and it seemed as though I’d barely closed my eyes. I sat up, bleary-eyed and fuzzy-minded, and saw that it was Davus who had awakened me.
Davus, speaking swiftly and softly, said to me, “The General wants you. He wants to see you. You awake?”
“I haven’t been fed,” I said. “The food was never brought to me.”
“Don’t be an idiot. Listen to me. If you’re smart, you’ll listen to me. Keep a close mouth when you talk to the General, you hear me?”
“A close mouth?”
“Nobody mistreated you,” he said. “Mister Phail asked you some questions and you gave him the answers, and that’s all. And nobody hit you or threw you in the water or anything like that.”
“You threw me in the water,” I said.
“Not if you know what’s good for you,” he said, still speaking low and fast. “Not if you don’t want trouble later on. You just be careful and watch yourself.” He straightened. “Come on.”
I got up from the bed and followed him and he took me the same route back to the same room. We entered, and this time the room was full of people.
Back in the corner, near the safe, stood Phail, looking wary. In another corner, their arms folded over their chests and their faces carefully blank, stood Malik and Rose. Sitting at the desk was a big old man as gnarled and thick as an old tree. He had thick white hair, a heavy and strong-looking body, huge jagged hands resting on the desktop, and a weathered craggy face dominated by burning eyes of a pale pale blue. Standing behind him, one to either side, were the other two young officials who had been with Phail on the inspection tour of the mine.
The big old man at the desk said, “You’re Malone?” His voice was hoarse and scattered, as though he’d had a very strong deep voice and had overworked it.
I said, “Yes. Rolf Malone.”
He said, “Phail tells me you’re willing to cooperate.”
“Yes.”
He said, “How much?”
“What?”
“How much do you want? What’s your bargaining price? You want a percentage, I suppose.”
I said, “Could I have antizone?”
Everyone reacted to that. Phail blanched, and looked frightened. All the others seemed surprised. Only Malik and Rose maintained their impassivity.
The old man said, “What do you mean, you want antizone?”
“I want to blot everything out,” I said. “If I could have an injection of antizone, and then you could send me back to the mine.”