thedestroyer.deathcheck-第19部分
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But as his hand started to move； it became numb； and then。。。。 Ye gads。 The left rider to the chute was slipping off the useless left hand。 Then the American worked at the main buckle on the chest strap and it was off； and Geoffrey was suddenly spinning around and facing away from the American。 Then the other strap to the right rider was eased off a suddenly numb right arm； and only his legs remained strapped into the unopened chute。 And then Geoffrey was spinning again； this time face forward and he felt the chute yank up between his legs and he was diving head first towards the ground； without his parachute or the use of his limbs。 He attempted to flip over； but there was just the slightest slap on his back and he remained； going face down； floating down。
Gads！ He had no parachute。 He was stripped of his chute。 Then he felt himself being flipped up and there was the American face…to…face with him as they descended。 He was snapping on the buckle over the chest。 He was wearing Geoffrey's parachute。 He was smiling and still humming。
Geoffrey saw a khaki bundle thrust toward him。 It was the American's faulty chute。 Then the American shouted： 〃That's the biz； sweetheart。 Remember me to Henry the Eighth。〃
Red and white material sprung out and up from the American's back； and then snapped into a ballooning canopy of an open chute。 The American seemed to rise and then bee farther and farther away as he swung from the riders in gentle descent。
Geoffrey Hawkins； late of Her Majesty's Royal Marines； arrived at the lush Virginia countryside at approximately the same moment as the faulty parachute。 The chute bounced with a whoomph and was usable again。
Geoffrey Hawkins didn't。 And wasn't。
By the time Remo landed； Doctor Hirshbloom had gone。
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Brewster Forum had supplied Remo with a room in a two…story house； centrally located in the forum's laboratory plex and just as centrally out of sight of any of the private homes。 It was called the workers' house。
〃If you get lost； just ask for the workers' house；〃 said the superintendent of the gymnasium。
〃You mean we live here。〃
〃Not we。 I'm a superintendent。 I have a home。 The lower…level work force uses the workers' house。 The cleaning women； drivers； cleanup men； security officer。〃
〃Okay；〃 Remo had said； 〃this will be fine。〃 His room allowed him to dress standing up if he stood on the bed； and if he chose； jump right from the shower to his sheets。 He could also use the two top drawers of the dresser； the bottom ones being wedged shut by the box springs of the mattress。
It was not really that the room was so small； but that the bed was so big。 It had been a discard from one of the private homes and like all the furniture hi the workers' house； was not designed for its room。 Remo could do a somersault on the mattress； which he judged would cover three ordinary beds。
〃That mattress alone…cost 1400；〃 one of the maids confided to him。 〃We're always getting furniture and stuff the people don't want。 It's real good stuff； only sometimes it looks kind of funny。〃
Naturally Remo could not do his more exotic exercises in the Forum gymnasium； assuming that the continued sustaining of peak had not drained his abilities too much to do them at all。
But he could always exercise in the bed on his back； which might be enough。 He stared at the ceiling and set his mind on a long road that had wound around the inside of the walls at Folcroft Sanitarium where he had received his first training。 He mentally stepped out onto the black gravel path and felt the wetness of the air ing in off Long Island Sound and smelled the stale after…odor of the burnings of yesterday's leaves and he was off。 Five quick miles today。
Looking at Remo in the bed at Brewster Forum； one would see only the leg muscles twitching and the chest moving regularly with the heavy breathing。 In fact； it was the breathing that made the run worthwhile； and when he approached the last lap he began to sprint； pressing his deadened legs； gasping for breath and pushing； pushing； pushing。 He had always been able to do the last lap with speed。 But this morning the legs were just not there and the energy needed for the sprint couldn't be called up。 He did not allow the thought that he might not be able to finish the final lap； although he did not know for sure how he could make it； and the pain became unendurable。 He had not had so much trouble since he first began running。
He never did find out if he could finish。 There was a knock on the door of his room in the workers' house of Brewster Forum。 Remo heard it and not wanting to open the door in an exhausted condition； went into a recover。 Fortunately； he was in bed； the process being a plete nothing。 Abandon all nerves； senses and muscles； drop all controls。 Bee a vegetable。 The effect on the body was like an electric shock in water。 The trick was to do everything simultaneously； because the heart could miss a beat； and if the rest of the system were still coursing through heavy exercise； it might not pick up that beat。
But it did； and Remo； sweat…drenched； but breathing like he had just awakened from a sleep； answered the door。 He knew that the normal breathing； the lack of a heat…flushed appearance； would make the perspiration appear like water。
The man in the door was late middle…age； but his face was fleshy with hard lines； strangely unbroken by his round metal…framed eyeglasses。 He wore a dark summer suit with white shirt and black tie； and offered a truly mechanical smile； the non…joyous likes of which Remo had not seen since the last Presidential campaign。
〃Excuse me；〃 said the man； with a polishing of gutturals in his voice。 〃I am Martin Stohrs； your chess instructor。 I did not realize you were in the shower。 I am sorry。〃
〃No；〃 said Remo。 〃I was trying to unstop the sink。〃
〃And it exploded？〃
〃In a way。〃
〃I don't imagine you can invite me in？〃 He was looking at the bed…filled room。
〃More like a bed with a room around it； no？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Terrible。 Terrible。 A man of your talent and abilities living in a room like this next to the servants。〃
〃It's okay with me。〃
〃Terrible。 This should be outlawed。 Security work in every place in the world is an honored profession requiring the highest of abilities and courage and discipline。 And they put you here。 I will speak to Brewster about this。〃
〃He put me here。〃
Stohrs changed the subject。 〃I came to invite you to my house for the honor of a game with you； and if you would also honor me； I would appreciate your pany at dinner。 I had mentioned the game the other day when you had finished with those motorcycle swine； but you probably did not hear me。〃
〃Thanks anyway； I have a date。〃
〃So soon？〃
〃Well； it's sort of business。 One of the staff。 Doctor Hirshbloom。〃
〃Ah； Deborah。 Surprising。 She rarely sees anyone。 Un usual when you consider that this is a think tank； and
what fills the tank mostly is words and more words。〃 He seemed charmed by his joke。
〃I'm not sure what this is。〃
〃Hah； no one else is either。 I like you。 We must play。〃
〃Thanks again； but some other time。 I'm on my way to see someone now。〃
〃Ach。 Excuse me； most assuredly。 The invitation is open。〃
Remo thanked him again and shut the door。 He dressed in a pair of white chinos and a blue sports shirt。 His two
suits hung in the bathroom； the closet door not having room enough to open。
Stohrs was waiting downstairs。 He was apologetic。 He had not wished to intrude on Remo Pelham。 He was not the pushy type like some people。 He was not the pushy type for the mile and a half walk to the circle of cottages。 He made that clear several limes。
〃You see； I e from a culture that appreciates privacy； just as it appreciates the true role of the policeman。 You have violence in this country today because the policeman is not respected。 Order is not respected。 Now； in my country； no policeman would ever be forced to live in the servants' quarters when a golf instructor lives in a house。 Yes？〃
〃Yes； what？〃 asked Remo； noticing how the night came unexpectedly fast for the summer。 Or was it his imagination； or even worse； the losing of touch with time and senses and feeling。 He
