Читать онлайн "Time Bomb And Zahndry Others" - Zahn Timothy - RuLit

He was still watching me. Carefully, I did my "nod" and then continued on a couple of yards in the direction I'd been leading him. He watched for a few seconds and then, almost reluctantly began to follow. I breathed a sigh of relief. Five minutes more of his trust was all I needed.... five minutes, and I would be able to betray that trust.

Tough love. Tough love.

Three minutes later, we reached the ravine.

It was both wider and deeper than I'd envisioned it from Shaeffer's maps, probably fifty feet from rim to rim at this spot and a hundred feet or more from rim to bottom. It was also considerably starker than I'd expected. There were stunted trees lining both rims and along the very bottom, but the sides themselves were nothing but rock and gravel and an occasional clump of grass or small cacti.

And with the sun now behind the western mountains, the growing gloom was beginning to mask what lay below.

Jeffers spotted the ravine as we approached, of course, and for a moment he stood at the edge, peering as far over as the gently rolling slope permitted. What now? he asked.

In answer, I drifted over the edge and moved a few feet down the side, scanning the area immediately beneath me as I did so. I had indeed led us to the precise place I'd hoped to: barely thirty feet down, the increasingly steep side abruptly became sheer, dropping almost straight down to the trees below. Together with the loose gravel of the sides... I returned my attention to Jeffers, praying that he wouldn't look any farther, but just trust me and step out over the edge.

But whatever trust he still had in me wasn't nearly that blind. Isn't there some other route? he asked, not moving. This doesn't look very safe to me.

Again, there was nothing I could do to communicate with him except to repeat my motion into the ravine. Rubbing at his jaw, he looked both ways along the edge, as if trying to decide whether he should instead try to go around it. But the slopes in both directions were at least as intimidating as what he could see of the ravine—I'd made sure that would be the case when I chose this place. For another minute his eyes searched the area around us, looking perhaps for a place where he could tether one of the lines from his parachute as a safety rope. But it was clear that none of the half dead trees in the vicinity would stand up to any force, and after a minute he clenched his teeth and nodded. Holding gingerly onto the nearest trees for support, he stepped onto the slope and started down.

He got five steps before he lost it.

He screamed, or perhaps swore, as the ground slid abruptly out from under his feet and he started down. Dropping down on his butt, he rolled over and flattened his torso against the rocky slope, hands scrabbling for purchase. But there was nothing there to grasp onto; and as the slope steepened, his hands ceased their attempts as he seemed to realize that he was doomed. Faster and faster he went, his passage throwing up dust and clouds of tiny stones as he fell down and down toward the bottom and certain death—

And an instant later hit and collapsed onto the wide granite ledge thrusting its way out of the side of the ravine.

For an awful minute I thought all my careful planning had been in vain, that the fall had in fact killed or lethally injured him. Then, to my vast relief, he rolled over and levered himself stiffly into a sitting position. He looked at the ledge, glancing up, then eased forward to peer over the edge at the sheer drop below. And then his eyes found me...

I forced myself to look back at him, to accept the expression of betrayal on his face. Morgan had been right on this one, too: tough love meant short pain.... and there was still enough of the martyr in me to want to claim some of that pain for myself.

Though no doubt both Jeffers and Shaeffer would be able to find plenty of pain for me at the end of the Jump. But that was all right. I'd saved Jeffers's life, and I'd saved the past, and that was all that counted. Smiling to myself, I left.

—

I found Morgan, Kristin, and Griff sitting around the lounge TV when I finally felt well enough to leave my room. On the screen, coincidentally, was President Jeffers, giving his first public speech since his rescue. The two days of rest seemed to have done him a lot of good, too.

"Hey—Adam," Griff half turned as I came into the lounge. "How're you feeling?"

"Groggy, but pretty good otherwise," I told him, pulling up a chair next to his and nodding in turn at Kristin and Morgan. "I'm a little surprised I didn't wake up in Leavenworth."

He snorted gently. "What, you think Jeffers is going to hold a grudge?"

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"He had a lot of time out there to figure out why you did what you did. Shaeffer's a little madder, I'll admit, but I think he understands, too." He'd exhaled loudly. "So. Rumor has it Banshee's going to be getting a fairly dramatic budget increase. Would you ever consider coming back?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. It depends on a lot of things."

"Such as?"

Such as whether my coming back would help the other Jumpers. Really help them, not just hurt me. "Oh, you know. Things."

Griff grunted. "Well, anyway, I hope you do. Especially now that there's a whole new area waiting for us to work in."

"You mean changin' the past?" Morgan put in quietly.

Something about the way he said that... "You okay, Morgan?" I asked, craning my neck to look at him.

His expression, too, was... strange. "Listen," he said, nodding toward the TV.

I shifted my attention to the set. "...will seek out those responsible for this cowardly attack on me—and through me on the American people. I am further directing the Pentagon to draw up contingency plans for punitive military action should we find evidence of foreign governmental involvement..."

I licked my lips. "He sounds serious."

"He's angry, and he's bitter," Kristin said. "He lost a lot of friends on that plane."

Morgan took a deep breath, exhaled it slowly. "Tell me," he said slowly, "any of you ever heard o' Hezekiah?"

Griff glanced a frown toward me. "One of the kings of ancient Israel, wasn't he?"

"Of Judah, yes," Morgan nodded. "A good one, too... except that when God told him it was time for him to die, he fought and kicked against the decision. And God backed down—gave him another fifteen years to live."

A cold shiver worked its way up my back. "And...?"

"And durin' that time he had himself a son who wound up bein' one of the worst kings Judah ever had. And helped to destroy the whole country."

I looked back at the TV.... at the image of the man whose death I'd helped to reverse. "I hope, quietly, "that kind of history doesn't repeat itself.

Morgan nodded. "Me, too."

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