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Updated: May 21, 2025
Then Dark realized it was awaiting a patrol car from Mars City to check and take him in custody if necessary. Immediately, he put the groundcar in drive and whipped out of the cloverleaf under full acceleration. If he could only achieve top speed, 350 kilometers-an-hour, the copter couldn't match it. But the copter was on his tail at once as he swerved out of the tight curve. Its guns spat fire.
It was a cry that shrieked in his mind, reverberated in his mind, touching nothing around him, touching not the silent corridor. Maya! Dark's mind went out to her, rode up on swift wings to the room above where she had waited for his return. He was there, in that room, and there was the helicopter. There was no Maya there. But there were figures in the copter, moving.
Perhaps, pushed by their need for learning more about the Apaches, they would bring the helicopter in over the mountains. The answer to all Apache dangers, for now, lay in the immediate future of this one man. "He is hurt, he cannot go far on foot. And even if he calls the 'copter, there is no landing place. He will have to move elsewhere to be picked up."
He watched the 'copter rise to the two thousand foot local traffic level and turn in the direction of Mineola High School, fifty miles away. He was still looking anxiously after it as it dwindled to a tiny dot and vanished. "They'll make it all right," Claire told him. "Olaf has a strong back, and Ray has a good head." "It wasn't that that I was worried about."
'Copter and TV repair shops he made a minor and relatively honest graft there, from the sale of rebuilt equipment. Even an atomic-equipment shop, though there was nothing in the place that would excite a Geiger more than the instructor's luminous-dial watch. Domestic Science Home Decorating, Home Handicrafts, Use of Home Appliances, Beautician School, Charm School.
Finally, leaving his guards with the 'copter at a public landing stage, he made his way, by devious routes, to William R. Lancedale's office, and found Lancedale at his desk, seeming not to have moved since he had showed his agent out earlier in the day. "Well, we're in a nice puddle of something-or-other," Cardon greeted him. "On top of that Gardner telecast, this morning "
He broke off, peering down at the five-hundred-foot-square landing stage above the central block, then brought his 'copter swooping down rapidly.
That man back there isn't Dark Kensington, because Kensington's dead. Maya, I promise you, I'm going to find out what the answer is, but first I'm going to make sure that you don't cause me any more trouble." Dark touched Maya's mind. Maya, I'm going to try something here. He moved back. He was outside the copter, near it, keeping pace with it as it flew.
They could only stand their ground, take their fearful chances, be part of it. One of the last things Mitch said, was, "Got any cigarettes, Frank? Selma likes one, once in a while." "Sure. Three packs here inside my Archer. Mighty small hospitality gift, Mitch..." After the 'copter drifted away, it seemed that a curtain drew over Nelsen's mind, blurring the whole memory.
But it was rather far from a probable thing. There were lines hollows where gusts had blown at the snow's surface. They were spiral lines, tending toward a center. They had not the faintest resemblance to the crater of an explosion which might have made an earth-shock. Soames took a camera out of its place in the 'copter. Gail stared down. "I've seen something like that," she said puzzledly.
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