III
I have to tell you about Vern Engdahl. We were all from the _SeaSprite_, of course--me and Vern and even Arthur. The thing about Vernis that he was the lowest-ranking one of us all--only an electricians'mate third, I mean when anybody paid any attention to things likethat--and yet he was pretty much doing the thinking for the rest ofus. Coming to New York was his idea--he told us that was the onlyplace we could get what we wanted.
Well, as long as we were carrying Arthur along with us, we pretty muchneeded Vern, because he was the one who knew how to keep the lash-upgoing. You've got no idea what kind of pumps and plumbing go into aprosthetic tank until you've seen one opened up. And, naturally,Arthur didn't want any breakdowns without somebody around to fixthings up.
The _Sea Sprite_, maybe you know, was one of the oldliquid-sodium-reactor subs--too slow for combat duty, but as big as abarn, so they made it a hospital ship. We were cruising deep when themissiles hit, and, of course, when we came up, there wasn't much for ahospital ship to do. I mean there isn't any sense fooling around withanybody who's taken a good deep breath of fallout.
So we went back to Newport News to see what had happened. And we foundout what had happened. And there wasn't anything much to do except payoff the crew and let them go. But us three stuck together. Why not? Itwasn't as if we had any families to go back to any more.
Vern just loved all this stuff--he'd been an Eagle Scout; maybe thathad something to do with it--and he showed us how to boil drinkingwater and forage in the woods and all like that, because nobody in hisright mind wanted to go near any kind of a town, until the coldweather set in, anyway. And it was always Vern, Vern, telling us whatto do, ironing out our troubles.
It worked out, except that there was this one thing. Vern had brightideas. But he didn't always tell us what they were.
So I wasn't so very surprised when I came to. I mean there I was, tiedup, with this girl Amy standing over me, holding the gun like a club.Evidently she'd found out that there weren't any cartridges. And in acouple of minutes there was a knock on the door, and she yelled, "Comein," and in came Vern. And the man who was with him had to be somebodyimportant, because there were eight or ten other men crowding in closebehind.
I didn't need to look at the oak leaves on his shoulders to realizethat here was the chief, the fellow who ran this town, the Major.
It was just the kind of thing Vern _would_ do.
* * * * *
Vern said, with the look on his face that made strange officers wonderwhy this poor persecuted man had been forced to spend so much time inthe brig: "Now, Major, I'm sure we can straighten all this out. Wouldyou mind leaving me alone with my friend here for a moment?"
The Major teetered on his heels, thinking. He was a tall,youngish-bald type, with a long, worried, horselike face. He said:"Ah, do you think we should?"
"I guarantee there'll be no trouble, Major," Vern promised.
The Major pulled at his little mustache. "Very well," he said. "Amy,you come along."
"We'll be right here, Major," Vern said reassuringly, escorting him tothe door.
"You bet you will," said the Major, and tittered. "Ah, bring that gunalong with you, Amy. And be sure this man knows that we have bullets."
They closed the door. Arthur had been cowering in his suitcase, butnow his eyestalk peeped out and the rattling and clattering from thattypewriter sounded like the Battle of the Bulge.
I demanded: "Come on, Vern. What's this all about?"
Vern said: "How much did they offer you?"
Clatter-bang-BANG. I peeked, and Arthur was saying: WARNED YOU SAMTHAT ENGDAHL WAS UP TO TRICKS PLEASE SAM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HIT HIMON THE HEAD KNOCK HIM OUT HE MUST HAVE A GUN SO GET IT AND SHOOT OURWAY OUT OF HERE
"A hundred and fifty thousand dollars," I said.
Vern looked outraged. "I only got forty!"
Arthur clattered: VERN I APPEAL TO YOUR COMMON DECENCY WERE OLDSHIPMATES VERN REMEMBER ALL THE TIMES I
"Still," Vern mused, "it's all common funds anyway, right? Arthurbelongs to both of us."
I DONT DONT DONT REPEAT DONT BELONG TO ANYBODY BUT ME
"That's true," I said grudgingly. "But I carried him, remember."
SAM WHATS THE MATTER WITH YOU Q Q I DONT LIKE THE EXPRESSION ON YOURFACE LISTEN SAM YOU ARENT
Vern said, "A hundred and fifty thousand, remember."
THINKING OF SELLING
"And of course we couldn't get out of here," Vern pointed out."They've got us surrounded."
ME TO THESE RATS Q Q SAM VERN PLEASE DONT SCARE ME
* * * * *
I said, pointing to the fluttering paper in the rattling machine:"You're worrying our friend."
Vern shrugged impatiently.
I KNEW I SHOULDNT HAVE TRUSTED YOU, Arthur wept. THATS ALL I MEAN TOYOU EH
Vern said: "Well, Sam? Let's take the cash and get this thing overwith. After all, he _will_ have the best of treatment."
It was a little like selling your sister into white slavery, but whatelse was there to do? Besides, I kind of trusted Vern.
"All right," I said.
What Arthur said nearly scorched the paper.
Vern helped pack Arthur up for moving. I mean it was just a matter ofpulling the plugs out and making sure he had a fresh battery, but Vernwanted to supervise it himself. Because one of the little things Vernhad up his sleeve was that he had found a spot for himself on theMajor's payroll. He was now the official Prosthetic (Human)Maintenance Department Chief.
The Major said to me: "Ah, Dunlap. What sort of experience have youhad?"
"Experience?"
"In the Navy. Your friend Engdahl suggested you might want to join ushere."
"Oh. I see what you mean." I shook my head. "Nothing that would do youany good, I'm afraid. I was a yeoman."
"Yeoman?"
"Like a company clerk," I explained. "I mean I kept records and cutorders and made out reports and all like that."
"Company clerk!" The eyes in the long horsy face gleamed. "Ah, you'remistaken, Dunlap! Why, that's _just_ what we need. Our morning reportsare in foul shape. Foul! Come over to HQ. Lieutenant Bankhead willgive you a lift."
"Lieutenant Bankhead?"
I got an elbow in my ribs for that. It was that girl Amy, standingalongside me. "I," she said, "am Lieutenant Bankhead."
Well, I went along with her, leaving Engdahl and Arthur behind. But Imust admit I wasn't sure of my reception.
Out in front of the hotel was a whole fleet of cars--three or four ofthem, at least. There was a big old Cadillac that looked like agangsters' car--thick glass in the windows, tires that looked likethey belonged on a truck. I was willing to bet it was bulletproof andalso that it belonged to the Major. I was right both times. There wasa little MG with the top down, and a couple of light trucks. Every oneof them was painted bright orange, and every one of them had thestar-and-bar of the good old United States Army on its side.
It took me back to old times--all but the unmilitary color. Amy led meto the MG and pointed.
"Sit," she said.
I sat. She got in the other side and we were off.
It was a little uncomfortable on account of I wasn't just sure whetherI ought to apologize for making her take her clothes off. And then shetramped on the gas of that little car and I didn't think much aboutbeing embarrassed or about her black lace lingerie. I was onlythinking about one thing--how to stay alive long enough to get out ofthat car.
The Knights of Arthur Page 3