Collected Fiction (1940-1963)

by William P. McGivern

  DEEVER slapped the heavy gun on his hip. “This’ll take care of me.” He walked off, taking long fast strides, his head swinging nervously to the right and left. Peter followed him as he headed for the base of the mountain.

  Rick slapped a mosquito on the back of his neck and watched them with a frown. Deveer was a capable man, a solid competent man who would be fine in a pinch. But his restlessness, his savage need to release the pressure inside him could cause trouble.

  “Where are they going?”

  Rick turned. Clare Halloway was standing in the open hatch, looking after Peter and Deveer. She was wearing white shorts, a white silk shirt and leather moccasins with white ankle socks.

  “What in hell kind of an outfit is that supposed to be?” he exploded.

  She jumped lightly down beside him. “Don’t you think it’s smart?”

  “I think it’s the silliest thing I ever saw. What do you think this sun will do to you?”

  “Give me a nice smooth tan that would cost me a lot of money at Sun Valley,” she said.

  “The mosquitoes will treat you like a blue plate special,” he said.

  “You can’t blame them for their good taste, can you?”

  “Well, they’re your legs.”

  “They’re pretty nice, too, aren’t they?”

  He glanced down at her legs. They were long, slim and white. “They’re fine,” he said. “Just the right number.”

  “The original iceberg man,” she said, shaking her head. “The Army should send you with Byrd instead of to a place like this.”

  “Deveer and Peter are taking a swing around to the left. We’re going to cover the right. Shall we get started or do you want to chatter about my sex life.”

  “I can think of nothing less interesting,” she said angrily. “I think you’re boorish, crude, insulting—”

  “And I used to beat my mother,” he said wearily. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s hit it, then.”

  He struck off right of the plane and headed for the forests, walking rapidly. After about a hundred yards he could hear her panting.

  “Where’s the fire?” she called out. “I want to get back before it’s dark,” he said. “If this is too fast I’ll slow up. I expected you to cave in pretty soon anyway.”

  “Oh, you’re so damn rugged!” she cried. “A great big tough hero. Well, this pace is fine for me,” she said, gasping on the last word.

  He grinned and kept going.

  When they reached the scanty woods he was forced to slow down because the underbrush grew in a practically impassable tangle. She caught up with him then, came up on his side.

  “Why didn’t you send me with Peter or Deveer if I’m so unpleasant,” she said. “It’s obvious you don’t like me and won’t give me half a chance to prove you might be wrong.”

  He looked directly at her. She was panting and her face was damp with perspiration. “We flipped a coin to see who’d get stuck with you. I lost,” he said.

  She took several deep breaths and then she nodded.

  “That’s plain enough,” she said.

  He hadn’t meant to tell her that. A girl—any girl—would be a handicap out here. It wasn’t a question of personalities. That made it a pretty low blow and he felt cheap. He started to say something, but he knew from the look on her face that it wouldn’t help.

  So he said, “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER III

  PETER and Deveer stopped for a cigarette after covering about two miles. The place they stopped at was a small, natural amphitheatre formed by a depression in the ground with walls of rock on three sides.

  “Cooler here, isn’t it?” Peter said.

  “Yeah.” Deveer sat on a rotting stump and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’ll be glad to get back and get a camp set up. This is strictly for the birds.”

  Peter sat on the ground and smoked his cigarette slowly. Finally he pushed a lock of yellow hair from his eyes and grinned at Deveer.

  “You don’t think much of this trip, do you?” he said.

  Deveer smiled faintly. “Here we go again.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Skipper and I were kicking that around a little while ago. No, I don’t think much of it.”

  They finished their cigarettes in silence. The air was hot and oppressive. Dozens of gnats and mosquitoes buzzed around their heads. The ground was hard and dry.

  Deveer finally got to his feet. “Let’s get this finished,” he said. “Watch out how you put that cigarette out.”

  “Okay.”

  They started for the opening that led into the small depression when a voice sounded suddenly:

  “Halt! Put your hands in the air!”

  The two men looked at each other and then they raised their hands slowly. They turned their heads, looking for the man who had spoken.

  On top the stone wall on their left a rifle caught a flash from the sun; holding the rifle was a man with yellow skin and flat alert eyes. Beside him was another man and his rifle was also pointed at them. They shifted their eyes about and saw more of the brown men.

  From the three walls at least a dozen rifles were trained on them.

  “Okay, what next?” Deveer said, raising his voice slightly.

  There was no answer from the men on top of the walls.

  A minute passed and then they heard footsteps coming through the underbrush. A slim young man appeared suddenly in the aperture through which they had entered the amphitheatre.

  The young man was Japanese. He was tall for his race, well built in slim graceful lines. He was wearing a gray green uniform. His eyes were black and his skin was light yellow. He was smiling, displaying white, even teeth.

  “Permit me,” he said. “I am Lieutenant Kato. I hope I haven’t startled you.”

  “My name is Deveer. This is my friend, Peter Rundell,” Deveer said. “You startled hell out of us, brother. We didn’t know there was anyone else around.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Lieutenant Kato said.

  A small stock Japanese appeared behind Lieutenant Kato. The Lieutenant said something sharply to him in Japanese and the stock man trotted to Deveer’s side. He took the cartridge belt and gun off, then did the same to Peter.

  “Can we take our hands down now?” Deveer said dryly:

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” the slim Lieutenant said, smiling. “We can’t take a chance, you know. You men are undoubtedly friendly but there are only a few of us so we must be cautious. You will come along with me now?”

  “What for?” Deveer said bluntly.

  The lieutenant shrugged, then shot a significant glance upward at the rifles. “That’s a good enough reason, isn’t it?”

  “We’re United States citizens,” Peter said.

  THE lieutenant glanced at him and his face was now impassive. “Yes, I know about the United States. I went to college there. A charming place. But in spite of our mutual information and interest in your country I must insist that you come with me.” His voice and face hardened. “Otherwise I’ll be forced to instruct my men to shoot. They are. good marksmen. They won’t kill you but they would enjoy testing their skill with, say, a shot at your shoulder or ankle.”

  Deveer shrugged. “Okay, we’ll come along. Nothing else to do. Where are you taking us?”

  “You will see soon enough,” Kato smiled. “Please follow me.”

  Deveer and Peter glanced at each other, then followed the lieutenant through the opening of the amphitheatre into the tangled forest. The Jap riflemen scrambled down the walls on which they had been perched and collected themselves about the two Americans.

  They were small, ragged men, wearing the remnants of Japanese uniforms. Their faces were blank and impassive, but they moved about with military alertness.

  The lieutenant snapped a few words at them in Japanese and they fell in. beside the Americans in two orderly columns. Kato took a pla
ce beside Deveer and jerked his head.

  “We have a long march,” he said.

  The double column moved ahead. For an hour they marched through the hot, airless jungle; then the trees became fewer as they began an, ascent of the sloping side of the mountain.

  “How much further?” Deveer grunted to Kato.

  “We still have quite a ways to go,” Kato said. He glanced at the sun which was sinking behind one of Mount Kellar’s jagged peaks. “Another hour, perhaps.”

  The path they followed now was a narrow gash leading into the mountain. On either side of them sheer cliffs shot cleanly above them; at the top a tiny patch of white sky was visible. The cliffs cut off the last of the sun and they walked through an atmosphere that was like purple-shadow.

  Finally after an hour’s march the path turned sharply and the Americans saw a rocky plateau ahead of them. Formed by the ruptured base of Mount Kellar, it was roughly square and covered approximately two or three acres.

  Kato led the party along the left side of the plateau. It was almost dark now and Deveer saw ahead a bright light burning in the darkness.

  “We are about at the end of our journey,” Kato said. He didn’t seem tired. His voice was still light, faintly amused and his stride was springy.

  When they reached the light they discovered it was an electric bulb set above a tunnel that led into the bowels of the mountain. A sentry at the mouth of the tunnel came to attention and saluted the lieutenant.

  Kato returned the salute and said something to his men which was obviously a command of dismissal because they broke ranks and moved away in the darkness.

  “We will go inside,” Kato said. “I imagine you’re tired and would appreciate a wash. Well, we’ll take care of that first. Just follow me.”

  He walked into the tunnel, Deveer and Peter following. Inside, the tunnel was illuminated with electric lights set into the wall at intervals of twenty or twenty-five feet. The walls of the tunnel were smoothly hewn and covered with concrete. The floor had been finished in the same manner.

  “Quite a set-up,” Deveer said.

  Kato smiled. “We have been busy,” he said.

  THE tunnel was about ten yards wide with a high ceiling. Every thirty or forty yards a uniformed sentry was posted. The sentries resembled the men who had escorted them through the jungle, except that they seemed neater and cleaner. But their faces had the same blank, impassive stare and their reactions were jerky and automatic.

  Kato stopped at a sliding door beside which there was a row of buttons. He pressed the bottom button and then turned and smiled at the Americans.

  “The elevator will be along shortly. I’m glad you’re impressed with our industry. We haven’t had much to work with and it’s gratifying to know you are impressed.”

  “We’re impressed,” Deveer said dryly.

  The elevator arrived and the door slid open noiselessly. They entered, Kato pushed another button and the elevator began a swift ascent. The interior of the elevator was fitted with gleaming steel and brown wood paneling. The Americans looked at the modern appointments with interest. They were as incongruous in the surroundings as a python would have been on Forty-second and Broadway.

  After a ride of several minutes the car stopped and Kato led them down a brightly lighted corridor to a double room, equipped with cots and a lavatory.

  “I’ll leave you now,” he said. “When you’re refreshed I’ll be back.”

  He smiled and left.

  Deveer kicked the door shut and looked at Peter. “Quite a deal,” he said. “What do you think?”

  Peter shook his head warningly and made a quick tour of the rooms. He probed the mattresses, looked under the chairs and inspected the ceiling.

  “Dictaphone?” Deveer asked.

  “That’s what I was looking for,” Peter said. “If they can build elevators in a rock mountain, a dictaphone wouldn’t be too much for them. But I don’t see any.”

  Deveer sat down and lit a cigarette. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully and then shrugged. “No use guessing what goes. Better just wait and see.”

  “I’m wondering about Rick and the girl,” Peter said.

  “Maybe they’ve been picked up, too.”

  There was a knock on the door a moment later and a Japanese entered carrying a tray. There was hot tea and a plate of small cakes made with gray flour. Deveer bit into one and chewed experimentally. Then he nodded. “Tastes all right,” he said.

  “You’re pretty cool,” Peter said with a faint, smile.

  “Nothing much to get excited about yet,” Deveer said. “They’re treating us all right. If they give us trouble that’ll be the time to think about doing something. Right now I’m going to eat. Then I’m going to wash some of this dirt off. After that I’ll just sit and wait.”

  Kato was back in an hour. He had changed to a clean uniform and was all smiles.

  “I hope you’re feeling better,” he said. “Now, will you come along, please?”

  The two men followed him to the elevator and they rode upward for what seemed to be several minutes. When the car stopped Kato took them down a lighted, paneled corridor to an oaken door, which was standing about six inches ajar.

  He knocked twice and a voice from beyond the door said come in. Kato pushed open the door and nodded to the Americans to follow him.

  INSIDE the room, which was about thirty feet square, there were several chairs and a huge desk. Behind the desk sat an elderly Japanese.

  “Professor Matsubi, these are the Americans,” Kato said. He smiled like a child who expects to be complimented; then he bobbed his head in a nervous little bow and left the room.

  Matsubi was small and wiry, with close cropped white hair, seamed yellowed skin, and eyes that were like small bright buttons. He smiled suddenly showing uneven, discolored teeth.

  “Sit down,” he said, in a mild voice which had the suggestion of a lisp. “I am happy to talk with you and see you.”

  Deveer and Peter sat down in straight-backed chairs facing the desk. The flooring under them was of polished, close grained wood; three walls were covered with maps and graphs, but the wall behind Matsubi was completely bare. The room was comfortably warm and it had the look of a place that had been used for a long time.

  Matsubi hooked his fingers into the lapels of the shiny black coat he wore and settled back in his chair. He smiled companionably.

  “Now you look more comfortable,” he said. “Tell me, are you surprised to find yourselves here?”

  Deveer glanced sideways at Peter, then shrugged and looked at Matsubi. “I guess we are. We weren’t looking for anything like this.”

  “Quite so. Tell me, what were you looking for?”

  “A landing field,” Deveer said. This was the ostensible reason given for their trip in Washington. “An American airline is looking for safety landing fields in this area. You know, alternate spots to set down in case the scheduled field is weathered in.”

  Matsubi looked at him and continued to smile. “You didn’t expect to find anything like this, eh?”

  “No.”

  “I have been afraid for the past months that someone might come looking for us,” Matsubi said, moving his hands in an embarrassed flutter. “That would be awkward. We lead a nice secluded life and the thought of interruption isn’t pleasant. You see we’ve been here for quite a few years now. We like it because we can continue our work in private.”

  “What kind of work?” Peter asked.

  “Oh, experimentation of various sorts,” Matsubi said. “Nothing very interesting to a lay person, I’m afraid.” He blinked owlishly. “But we haven’t introduced ourselves yet. I am, as you know from what Kato said, Professor Matsubi. And you—?” he left the question hang in the air.

  “My name is Deveer. This is Peter Rundell,” Deveer said.

  “So charmed,” Matsubi said. He picked up. a pen from his desk and toyed with it idly. When he looked at them again the smile was gone.

  �
�I know you gentlemen are lying,” he said. “I know you are officers in the American army. I want to know why you have lied to me. I want to know if you were sent here by your government looking for me and my little sanctuary. I want to know all that you know, gentlemen. And I think it is time you begin to tell me these things I wish to know.”

  PETER glanced at Deveer, then shook his head. “You’re way ahead of us, Professor. We’re charting emergency landing fields for an American airline. That’s the straight dope.”

  “We are sensible men,” Matsubi said. “There is no point to be gained in wasting time this way.” He stood up and came around the desk, toying idly with the pencil in his hand. “I know you have information I need. I would not like to resort to force to make you talk. Perhaps I can avoid that by telling you a little story. This story may scare you and make you willing to cooperate. I know you are not children to be scared by fables, but remember, gentlemen, this is not a fable. It is true and it is not pretty.

  “Once upon a time,” he said, with a little smile, “there was a young man in the service of the Emperor, a major in the army. He was a sincere, hardworking young man and he believed implicitly in the cause of the Emperor. This young man, whose name was Major Kok, was finally sent to school to learn things about atomic energy. He proved to be an apt pupil and he soon developed into a fine scientist. Strangely, his special talent lay in destructive techniques. I am an amateur psychiatrist, not a specialist, you understand, and it seemed to my amateur insight that the young man suffered from some inadequacy within himself, which he found justified by destruction. This isn’t ah original perception, but it has perhaps the virtue of being accurate. I have found this type of aberration quite common. The bully, for instance, is usually a graceless lout who has no personal qualities that command social acceptance; so he gains a recognition of some sort by brute force. He pushes everyone around so that they will be forced to look at him. This, for him, is the only attention he can command, so it must suffice. The sadist is usually sexually inadequate. Unable to have a woman in the normal sense of the word he is conscious of shame. This shame eventually takes the form of hatred. Hatred against the object that he cannot please or satisfy. This hatred is released by inflicting pain on the hate object.”