Pulp Fiction | The Invisibility Affair by Thomas Stratton (8 page)

BOOK: Pulp Fiction | The Invisibility Affair by Thomas Stratton
7.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

"You're getting along well with it? You mean you're working on it? For
them
?"

"I think you'll find we aren't such hard people to get along with, once you get to know us," Forbes broke in.

"Exactly," said McNulty, "our entire organization and all its plans have been unfairly maligned by our opposition. We aren't the megalomaniacs they would have us believe; we're simply hard-headed realists."

"And just what is your hard-headed realistic plan at the moment?" Kerry asked.

"Our plan," McNulty began, "is simply to provide the world with efficient leadership. Look at the state things are in now: fighting, chaos, communism, and sheer anarchism everywhere. What the world needs—the United States most of all—is good, strong, solid, realistic thinking. You can't successfully fight subversion without it. And we have it. Thrush could usher in a period of world prosperity undreamed of—"

"Yes, Arpad," Forbes interrupted. "It's a very moving oration, but it's late and I'm sure Miss Griffin and Dr. Morthley would like to get back to their interrupted sleep." He turned to the beefy individual. "Green, show them to their quarters."

Green led them into a bedroom then through a connecting door to the bedroom of another apartment. After they entered, he slammed the door shut and left. Kerry turned to her uncle.

"You can't be serious about working for these people!"

Morthley made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a cackle. "Oh, I'm working for them all right; I don't seem to have much choice. And I decided at the start that I'd have more freedom and a better chance of slipping away if I appeared to cooperate willingly." He sighed. "So far, though, it hasn't done me much good. Forbes is too careful. But Green isn't, so let's get back and see what they're planning."

"But aren't we locked in?"

Morthley opened the connecting door and proudly displayed a piece of wire jammed against the striker of the lock. "As I said, Green isn't too observant. Unfortunately"—he pointed to the other door of their supposed cell—"that door was locked when I came, and I haven't been able to get it open. Besides, I suspect that Green of someone is guarding it most of the time. About all I can do is eavesdrop on them, which hasn't done me much good."

The eavesdropping reminded Kerry of her secret transmitter, and she delightedly explained the entire plan. "And you've been listening to all the Thrush plans right here in their headquarters," she concluded. "You'll have all sorts of things to tell Illya and Napoleon!"

Morthley shook his head. "Regrettably, this isn't Thrush headquarters, and I haven't really learned much."

"But if it isn't headquarters, why are we here?"

"They don't have full-scale headquarters since U.N.C.L.E. discovered their former one. I overheard that much. This is just Forbes' apartment. They have their heavy equipment including my OTSMID—stored somewhere, and they hold meeting in restaurants and places like that. They're looking for a new headquarters. I heard Forbes telling Hunter once that they couldn't afford to make a mistake in picking one; apparently the telephone company charges outrageously to install all their special equipment. I listen all I can, but a lot of times all I can hear is Forbes or McNulty talking to someone on a communicator. And one side of a conversation is rarely helpful. Anyway, I'm glad to hear that someone is finally going to get me out of here. I've wasted too much time already."

They crept silently over to the door leading to Forbes' living room and placed their ears against the door. McNulty was speaking.

"...and I have several members of the Near North Side Neighborhood Civic Improvement Association circulating a petition. The Common Council is sure to go along with any recommendation that has that many signatures. Give me another month and I can have that entire area condemned for urban renewal, U.N.C.L.E. headquarters included."

"I wish you'd give as much thought tot the invisibility problem as you do to petty harassment," Forbes replied.

"Petty!" McNulty sounded as outraged as he ever allowed himself to become at a superior. "Look at the trouble we're having, just because we don't have a fixed headquarters. And think of the long-range benefits if it works here. That area around Del Floria's in New York is no civic showplace—just think of the prestige if our plan could force U.N.C.L.E. out of its major headquarters in the United States!"

"Yes, yes, I know you have far-reaching schemes, Arpad, but the important problem right now is invisibility. Thrush Central has decreed that we find a use for it—
now
!"

"Of course," a more chastened sounding McNulty replied. "I would never think of questioning the wisdom of Thrush Central. As you must be aware, however, there are certain problems involved, such as the shape of the field generated by the machine. And the sheer bulk is by no means—"

Forbes' tones were icy. "I am aware of the problems, my dear Arpad. What I—and Thrush Central—would like are solutions to those problems. Your time would be better devoted to finding answers than to reminding me of the problems. Is that clearly understood?"

McNulty's reply was almost inaudible. Morthley stifled a chuckle and whispered to Kerry, "McNulty is out of his league with Forbes. Only one that can stand up to him is Hunter. Wears a gold earring—or did until this evening. Fascinating individual."

"In the next room, the doorbell rang. Footsteps crossed the floor and the two listeners heard the door open and Forbes' voice welcome the caller. "Good man, Hunter; you made fine time getting here. Come on in. You can stay the night here and find yourself a new place in the morning. And perhaps you can come up with a practical use for the invisibility device. Arpad"—the voice dripped scorn—"hasn't been entirely successful."

Footsteps crossed the room again and there were sounds of someone getting settled. "I'm not going to be much help either," a voice deeper than Andy's said. "I can't see any practical use for it in its present stage. I've always thought we should wait until it's better developed."

"Are you presuming to argue with the decisions of Thrush Central?" Forbes asked ominously.

"Of course I am; at times that outfit seems to be composed exclusively of dimwits. They can't wait to get their hands on this device, and then they won't send the engineers and scientists necessary to exploit it properly. Morthley is just stalling for time and you know it' we need some capable Thrush people in here to work on that thing."

A frigid silence came from the next room. "See," Morthley whispered to Kerry. "What did I tell you? If they were all like that, the world would
really
be in trouble."

The silence was broken by McNulty busily offering to make drinks. There was the clink of ice, the sounds of pouring and more silence. Kerry could picture Forbes and Hunter glowering at one another while McNulty tried to think of something to inspire team effort.

Finally McNulty broke the silence again. "What about the dirigible?" he asked.

"The what?" came Forbes' startled reply.

"The dirigible, the one here in Wisconsin. Technically, of course, it's a Zeppelin, but—"

"Hunter, can you tell me what in God's name is he talking?"

"Didn't you know, sir?" McNulty hurried on. "We have a dirigible in a concealed hanger here in Wisconsin. Just dropping the idea to see if it floats, but we could mount the OTSMID on the dirigible. It's big enough to carry the weight, comparatively silent so we wouldn't be betrayed by the sound, and it's up in the air where the spherical field won't cause any problems. And it can be maneuvered slowly enough to avoid crashing into things." He hesitated a moment, before he went on, a self- satisfied tone creeping back into his voice. "Now that I think of it, it seems the ideal solution."

"Perhaps," Forbes grunted. "But could you first tell me what we're doing with a dirigible in the middle of Wisconsin?"

"Actually, it isn't in the middle," McNulty began pedantically, "but over in the west, not far from Minnesota. As to why we have it—well, it was also before your time, but—"

"If it was before my time, it was also well before your time, Arpad. How do you happen to know so much about it?"

"Well—" McNulty sounded a trifle embarrassed—"I'm interested in various aspects of you cultural heritage, as I think we all should be prepared for when we do take over the world. I belong to the Society for the Preservation of Rigid Lighter-Than-Air Vehicles, and—"

"Not to mention the Society of Canada for the Restoration of Absolute Monarchy," muttered Hunter.

"And when I found mention in the Thrush historical section of our acquisition of a dirigible, I naturally looked into the matter in some detail," McNulty continued, unperturbed. "It seems that Hitler grounded all German dirigibles after the
Hindenburg
disaster. One of them was offered to what was then our Third Reich Satrapy, and we purchased it. It was moved later, partly to avoid Allied bombers and partly to simplify the problem of transporting helium, since—"

"Don't lecture, Arpad. Why did we buy the ting in the first place?"

"Well, you never know when a dirigible will come in handy. Besides, it was a bargain, and—"

"Yes, I'm aware of Herr Schlossheimer's bargain-basement mentality. Sometimes I think he's working for the wrong side. However, as long as we have this anachronism—it
will
fly, won't it?"

"Oh, yes; certainly. It's been kept in readiness for instant use. A caretaker looks after it, and every year a maintenance team who used to work for Goodyear go over it thoroughly. And I've been out there myself a few times—on my own time, of course. I wouldn't think of doing this on Satrapy time.

"I'm sure you wouldn't. Very well, then. We're handicapped here anyway; we'll move the OTSMID to the dirigible site and arrange for tests. McNulty, since you seem so familiar with the situation, you get out there first thing in the morning and make advance arrangements. We'll want to move as soon as possible. Precisely where is this place anyway?"

Kerry was leaning against the door and holding her breath in anticipation when something resembling a vise clamped on the back of her neck and she was lifted from the floor. From the corner of her eye she saw Dr. Morthley, similarly suspended. A large booted foot kicked the door resoundingly. There were exclamations in the next room and the door was flung open by Forbes, who took the situation in at a glance.

"All right, Andy, put them down. What happened?"

"I took a look in to see how they was getting' along, and they wasn't in their room. So Green covered the door and I came in to see what they was up to. They was listening at the door here."

Forbes produced a wintry smile. "No harm done. They're in no position to use any knowledge gained, and we'll soon be leaving here." He walked over to the connecting door, inspected it briefly, and produced the wire jammed into the lock. "Ingenious. Green, get over here!"

Green approached, trying to avoid Forbes' icy stare.

"Don't you think this is ingenious, Green?" he asked, holding the wire up for Green's inspection. "Can you see it clearly enough to see just how clever it was of Dr. Morthley to have placed it in the lock when you placed him in the room?"

Green, blanching by now, muttered that he saw it.

"Then why didn't you see it when it was first put there? Thrush has very little use for men who can't keep proper guard over prisoners, and your next mistake like this will be your last. Do you understand?"

Green, his complexion fading by the second, stammered that he understood.

"Very well. Now then, we've had a long night. Andy, this time you lock up the prisoner' then you and Green go back to your room. Hunter, perhaps you had better go with them and make sure they stay alert. McNulty and I will sleep here."

As they were being shepherded back to their room, Kerry reflected that the pretense that they were guests had been swiftly abandoned. Forbes evidently hadn't been fooled by her uncle's cooperative pose. However, she thought gleefully, now she had some
real
information for Illya and Napoleon!

Chapter 6
"What Are You Nuts Doing to My Clean Floor?"

It was a lovely morning in Cudahy. The warm stickiness of the previous day had disappeared sometime during the pre-dawn hours, and the sun had come up into a crisp and cloudless day. Looking a bit less than crisp after their all-night vigil, Illya, Napoleon and Brattner sat in the car a half block from the apartment house containing Kerry and presumably Dr. Morthley and an unknown number of Thrush agents. The remaining members of Milwaukee's U.N.C.L.E. branch were stations on streets surrounding the building.

"Apparently Thrush hasn't taken over the entire building," Napoleon was saying. "That's the tenth man we've seen leaving with a lunch bucket of briefcase."

Illya nodded. "There seemed to be a remarkable number of children leaving for school, also. Thrush has never been noted for encouraging a happy family life."

"It's not so bad, then," said Brattner. "I was a little worried about going up against a whole building full of Thrushes. This way we may stand a chance."

Napoleon declined to comment on such restrained optimism. "First we have to locate the apartment where they're being held. The detector seems to indicate the ground floor, which is logical; easier to get in and out. But someone will have to get inside the building and get readings from several locations in order to pinpoint the apartment. Anyone care to be a door-to-door salesman?"

Brattner shook his head. "We'd have to go back to headquarters and get some sample cases. Here"—he reached into the glove compartment of his car and pulled out a small notebook—"we can take a survey."

"A survey of what?"

"How about the Wisconsin margarine situation" suggested Illya. "It came in handy last night, but it leaves me a bit baffled. I'd be happy to learn more about it."

"Learn while you earn," said Napoleon. "I take it you're volunteering for the mission?"

Illya hesitated, glancing at Brattner. The latter shook his head. "The Thrushes know my men too well. Of course, we know them, too, but there's too big a chance of tipping them off if they see us first. Only two of them have seen you."

Other books

Endless Magic by Rachel Higginson
Rebelarse vende. El negocio de la contracultura by Joseph Heath y Andrew Potter
Twelve Hours by Leo J. Maloney
Erica's Choice by Lee, Sami
Her Best Friend's Brother by Nicolette Lyons
Madbond by Nancy Springer
Historical Trio 2012-01 by Carole Mortimer
Heart of the Raven by Susan Crosby
2 Lady Luck Runs Out by Shannon Esposito