Mer-Cycle. Piers Anthony

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СКАЧАТЬ gazed at him incredulously, or so it seemed in the fading light of the headlamps, whose reservoirs were running down now that the bikes were stationary. “It really is true? You do collect broken plates and things? You value them more than gold?”

      “Yes! Gold is natural; it tells little unless it has been worked. But pottery is inevitably the handiwork of man. Its style is certain indication of a specific time and culture. Show me a few pottery shards and let me check my references, and I can tell you where and when they were made, sometimes within five or ten miles and twenty years. It may take time to do it, but the end is almost certain.”

      Gaspar raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, friend. If we find a wreck, I’ll take the gold and you take the broken plates. Fair enough?”

      “I’ll have the better bargain. You can’t keep the gold, by law, unless it’s in international waters; but the shards could make me famous.”

      “You archaeologists may be smarter than you look!”

      “I should hope so.”

      Gaspar smiled. “Let’s sack out. We’ve got a long ride tomorrow, I fear.”

      “What’s the position?”

      “The coordinates for the next rendezvous? I thought you had them.”

      “N-no. Only this one. The same one you had, it seems, so we could meet.”

      Gaspar tapped his fingers on his coordinate meter. “What a foul-up! They should have given one of us the next set.”

      Don’s eyes were on Gaspar’s fingers, because he couldn’t meet the man’s eyes. “I guess I should have asked. I just assumed—” He paused. Next to the meter was the radio. He had been about to ask Gaspar about that, when they had been interrupted by the sawfish. “Maybe the—did you check your radio?”

      Gaspar snapped his fingers. “That must be it. I just came out here, gasping at the sea-floor and fish, never thinking of that.” He flicked his switch.

      “Leave it on!” the female voice cried immediately.

      Startled, Gaspar looked down. Unlike Don, he was not dismayed, and he did not turn it off. “Who are you?”

      Don kept silent, relieved to have the other man handle it. Maybe he should have had more confidence in his own judgment about both this and the bad glop, but he couldn’t change his nature.

      “I’m Melanie. Your next contact. Why haven’t you answered before?”

      “Sister, I just turned on my set for the first time! What are your coordinates?”

      “I’m not going to give you my coordinates if you’re going to be like that,” she responded angrily.

      “M-my fault,” Don said, “I—I heard her voice, and thought—no one told me it would be a woman.”

      Gaspar looked at him, comprehending. Then his mouth quirked. “Give with the numbers, girl,” he said firmly to the radio, “or I’ll turn you off for the night. Understand?”

      She didn’t answer. Gaspar reached for the switch.

      “Eighty one degrees, fifty minutes west longitude,” she said with a rush, as if she had seen him. “Twenty six degrees, ten minutes north latitude.”

      “That’s better,” Gaspar said, winking at Don. “What’s the rendezvous time, Melanie?”

      “Twenty four hours from now,” she said. “You did make it to the first rendezvous point?”

      “Right. We’re both here. Just wanted you to know who’s in charge. Don, turn yours on so we can all talk.”

      Don obeyed. Gaspar had covered nicely for Don’s prior mismanagement of the radio, and he appreciated it. Why hadn’t he realized that the woman could be one of their party? He had simply assumed without evidence that it was to be three males. Maybe he just hadn’t wanted to face the prospect of working with a woman, especially a young one. He wished he could do something about his shyness.

      “A day,” Gaspar said. “Ten miles an hour for twelve hours, cumulative, and we can sleep as much as we want. That’s in the vicinity of Naples, Florida, you see.”

      Don hoisted up his nerve. “Are—are you—have you gone through the tunnel already? You’re in phase with us?”

      “Yes,” she replied. “I’m still on land, but I’ll come into the water at the right time to meet you there.”

      “D-do you have the coordinates for the next one?”

      “Yes, for all of them. I’m your coordinate girl. But I’m allowed to tell only one rendezvous point at a time. You just be thankful you’ve got company. I’m alone. That is, alone in phase. It’s weird.”

      “Wish you were here,” Gaspar said generously.

      “Did they tell you what the mission is?” Melanie asked him.

      “Nope. They told us no more than you. I answered an ad, believe it or not, and they checked my references—which were strictly average, and sent me out to get a bike. Same as you, probably.”

      “Yes,” she agreed.

      “I think this secrecy kick is overdone.”

      “It certainly is,” Melanie agreed. “I never even applied, actually. But here I am.”

      “There must be some rationale,” Don said. “I’m archaeological, you’re geological, she’s—”

      “Hysterical,” Melanie said.

      “The next member is mechanical, I hope,” Gaspar said. “Suppose the phase equipment breaks down when we’re a mile under? Do you know how to fix it?”

      “N-no.” Don shuddered. “I wish you h-hadn’t brought that up.”

      “We’re going to click out for about five minutes, Melanie,” Gaspar said. “Nothing personal. Man business.” Before she could protest, he turned his set off, gesturing Don to do the same.

      “Your stutter,” Gaspar said then. “Does it affect your decision-making ability in a crisis? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t suspect that my life may be subject to your ability to act, at some point.”

      Don could appreciate why Gaspar had an undistinguished employee record. He was too blunt about sensitive issues. “N-no. Only the v-vocal cords. Only under stress.”

      “No offense. Ask me one now.”

      “Not n-necessary,” Don said, embarrassed.

      “Well, I’ll tell you anyway. My friends—of which I have surprisingly few—all tell me I’m nice but stubborn and sometimes insensitive. The less tenable my position, the worse I am. They say.”

      Don shrugged in the dark, not knowing the appropriate response.

      “So СКАЧАТЬ